


You're the Color of My Blood

by Husaria



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Animal Death, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Minor Violence, Past Rape/Non-con, Polish-Lithuanian War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-23
Updated: 2015-05-23
Packaged: 2018-03-31 20:12:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3991240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Husaria/pseuds/Husaria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After regaining independence after WWI, Poland and Lithuania have very different ideas about where their political and personal relationship will go. War is their last - and only - choice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place during the Polish-Lithuanian War. Filled on the kink meme. Thanks to [kerrygethere](http://kerrygethere.tumblr.com) @ tumblr for looking this over!

Horse carriages pass Lithuania’s office on the ground floor. The clock above the door ticks a little past two in the afternoon. The walls are thin, and Lithuania hears and understands the mix of Polish and Yiddish outside his window. Rarely does he catch his own Lithuanian being spoken. Despite being his capital for over 500 years, Vilnius has become a center of Polish and Jewish and even Belarusian—not Lithuanian—culture.

But the city is his. Even under Russian rule, he felt the pulse of Vilnius. The cooling waters of the Neris flow through his veins, and the bells of the Vilnius Cathedral ring to the beat of his heart. The people are his too. Yom Kippur is in a few days, and his Jewish people are bustling to get preparations completed before Wednesday. The Poles are slipping from his consciousness—many want to be reunited with Poland, but a few are loyal to him and they sound in his mind as clear as any ethnic Lithuanian.

He hears the front door to his office building open, his receptionist offering a sweet “Hello” in Polish before the visitor quickly barks “Laurinaitis. Where is he?”. The receptionist tells the visitor where he is and the footsteps get closer and closer to his office.

Right on time.

The door bursts open.

“What the hell is this?”

Poland slams the papers on his desk and spits out the words, her seething anger turning her beautiful language in a snarl.

Lithuania leans forward over his desk and looks at the document. “Oh, it’s from the League of Nations,” he says calmly in Polish. He trains his voice to conceal his inner glee. “It says that we both have to withdraw our troops to the Curzon Line.”

“You _knew_ about this, didn’t you?” Poland says savagely and swipes the document off his desk.

Lithuania blinks. “Excuse me, I was reading that.”

“You’ve already read it.” She crumples up the paper and shoves it in her trenchcoat. Poland looks very much the part today. She is wearing a white coat and tights, a red skirt and blouse. “Let me guess, your foreign minister showed it to you to celebrate my downfall.”

“For your information, I received a copy of the document this morning,” Lithuania says. “I don’t understand why you are so opposed to it.”

“It leaves my borders _open_.”

“If you’re going to yell, please close the door.”

Poland stares at him as if she will punch him, but she spins around to slam the door and spins again to face him. “I actually _have_ borders to defend, unlike you who seems to let whoever they want inside you—”

Now she’s pissed him off. “How _dare_ you?” he snarls in Lithuanian without thinking. “That is _not_ my fault. I physically _can’t_ stop the Soviet Army from marching all over my countryside.”

Poland stares blankly at him. “What language are you even speaking?”

If it didn’t look badly on him to hit a woman—

“I _can’t_ ,” he repeats in Polish, a language that he shamefully knows just as well as Lithuanian. “You know I _can’t_. I want _him_ out of me as much as possible.”

“You are breaking your neutrality. You know this.”

“I am not.” Lithuania lowers his voice and gets a grip on his emotions. “If you actually read the document, it reaffirms my neutrality in the face of his conflict between you and the Soviet Union. No foreign troops within my borders, and those include yours. I want him and _you_ out.”

“I can’t control that.”

“Yes, you _can_ ,” Lithuania says. “I heard that you were involved in that surprise attack at Sejny.”

Poland looks scared for a second but changes the subject. “You know, if you keep Soviet troops, then I’m going to keep my troops here too.”

“That’s a direct violation—”

“No, it’s not. You know that if I remove my troops, it leaves me open from an attack from the Soviet Union.” Now it’s time for Poland to lower her voice. “Do you _want_ me to be partitioned again?”

“No,” Lithuania responds immediately. “You know that is the last thing that I want. I do not want you to be gone again.”

His voice betrays his emotions, and Poland notices. She takes off her coat and sits down across from Lithuania. “You know the last thing I want is for you to be taken from me again,” she says. “This last century—”

“I won’t be,” Lithuania says firmly. “I’m independent now. I won’t be taken from _anyone_ , not even you.”

Poland eyes widen. “You told me in Vienna 100 years ago that we’d be together again,” she says softly. “I’m here now.”

“Times have changed,” he growls. Poland flinches at Lithuania’s tone. “You don’t seem to understand. I don’t want to reform the Commonwealth. I want my independence.” Lithuania’s voice softens. “It has nothing to do with you. I want land for my people—for Lithuanians.”

Poland’s eyes no longer meet his, and she clenches one of her hands into a fist. “So…So that’s it, isn’t it? Giving up everything we fought for, giving up _me_ , for your _independence_. You had no problem wanting to reform the Commonwealth with me earlier.”

“Times are different, Poland,” he says slowly. “I _want_ to be independent. I want my people to have their own land where they can speak their own language. This has _nothing_ —”

“To do with me?” she finishes. Her head snaps up to meet his, her green eyes blazing. “Then cease hostilities and allow my army to pass through.”

“We’re already pushing back the Soviet Army. They’ve been in retreat since your victory in Warsaw. We might fall into another conflict with them ourselves.”

“At the very least, give us free passage through Vilnius and the surrounding regions. Vilnius is Polish.”

Lithuania stands up. “It is _not_. It has been my capital for almost 1000 years. I am not giving it over to you.”

“Vilnius is Polish,” Poland repeats. “Nearly everyone in Vilnius and around it speaks my language.”

“But the city is mine.”

“You’re lucky that the League of Nations only wants to end hostilities instead of solving the real issue. If you want a legal battle, I can have Vilnius returned to me in an instant. I have proof that it’s mine.”

“If Vilnius is Polish, why do I have an office here right now?” he growls. “Why can I feel these people?”

Poland jumps to her feet, comically standing a head shorter than him. “How come _I_ can feel them too? Most humans here are Poles.”

“ _Lithuanian_ Poles. They might be ethnically Polish but they are tied to my land. How does that poem of yours begin, ‘Lithuania, my fatherland, you are like health!—’”

“‘One only knows your value until you are lost,’” Poland finishes with a whisper. She looks down briefly, and then up at Lithuania with tears in her eyes. “Liet, I don’t _want_ to fight you.”

Lithuania slowly breathes out and runs a hand over his face. He wants to be independent. He wants to keep his sovereignty. He doesn’t want the Commonwealth.

“Do you think I _want_ this?” Lithuania says quietly. “The last thing I wanted to do when I regained my independence was to fight with you. I never wanted this war.”

“I don’t want it either,” Poland says. “After 123 years, I have my independence again. We were separated—”

“We were. We still are—politically, at least.” Lithuania sighs and closes his eyes. His stomach twists, and he tries not to visibly wince. Ever since his independence was restored, his economy has been in trouble.

“But you don’t want the Commonwealth anymore, why are we even having this conversation?” Poland puts her head in her hands. “You don’t want _me_ anymore.”

“ _No_ that’s not—” Lithuania tries not to groan. As much affection as he holds for Poland, he is very aware of the effect her tears have on him—and she knows it too. “Please don’t do that.”

“I thought you were my best friend,” Poland whispers. “I thought that—after I regained independence—”

“You’re still saying _I_. You still don’t recognize the fact that I’m my own nation now.”

“It’s not like I—I just thought that the Commonwealth—you’d want us to be together again—”

“ _No_.” Lithuania almost says _“Times are different”_ but Poland would not understand it even if he told her 100 times. “It’s not like that. I don’t like you any less because I’m independent. We can still be friends. I _want_ to be your friend. I _don’t_ want to fight.”

“You _say_ these things, but you don’t really _mean_ —I thought you _loved_ me—” Poland lets out a sob.

“Oh Poland, no, don’t cry—”

It works. It works, and he hates himself for it. With a sigh, he maneuvers around the table and holds Poland in his arms. She buries her head in his chest, and he kisses the top of her head.

“I just want to be independent,” he whispers. “That’s all. Just an independent nation for all Lithuanians. We’ll only be neighbors, but we’ll still be friends, and everything will be okay.” There are several points in those sentences that his politicians would hang him for, but he brushes the unsettling feeling aside. “I don’t want us to fight.”

“I don’t either,” Poland murmurs. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too. I miss you so much.” Lithuania pulls away before Poland plays another one of her tricks on him. “I’ve missed you for over 100 years. I _never_ imagined fighting you as soon as we got our borders back.”

“But we _need_ to resolve this conflict. We can turn Vilnius into a Free City like Gdańsk. Let’s push back the Soviets _together_.” Poland reaches forward to slide her hands up his shoulders. “It can be like Smolensk and Grunwald again,” she whispers and presses her lips against his. Lithuania closes his eyes and kisses her back and sighs.

“God, Poland, I don’t want to fight you.” He pulls away to whisper. “I’ve missed you—”

“Liet, I want you so much.” Poland captures his lips again and runs her hands down his chest to the buttons in his shirt. He becomes achingly aware of how soft her touch is compared to her strength during the Commonwealth when she would push him onto their bed and ride him like she was still wearing hussar armor—

 _“No,”_ Lithuania growls, shoving her away. “Poland, that is _not_ what I want. I want to remain neutral and keep my independence and _Vilnius_.”

Poland takes a few steps back with hurt in her eyes, but then her eyes flash as angry as the red on her flag.

“How _could_ you?” she shouts. “I thought you wanted _peace_. I thought you wanted to keep Russia away from you. What does Vilnius even matter to you? Most of the people who live here are _mine_.”

“You are getting _nowhere_ ,” Lithuania snaps. “You’re repeating the same arguments over and over—”

“You live with Russia for 123 years, and you’ve completely changed. You’re not the Lithuania I know.”

“You’re still the same Poland!”

A silence pervades them as the root of their argument sinks in. The fire simmers a little in Poland’s eyes while Lithuania’s stomach sinks.

“Poland, this isn’t the 1500s anymore,” he says quietly. “We can’t just make alliances and have all of our problems go away. We can’t make the Commonwealth again. The world doesn’t look work like that anymore.”

Poland stares at him. Tears well up in her large green eyes, and the hopelessness in them reflect that this time, the tears will not work.

“You’ve given up,” she says. “You’re not the same Lithuania who fights until the last banner falls. You’re broken.”

Lithuania’s hand clenches into a fist. “I am _not_ ,” he snarls. “What I need is sovereignty and respect for my borders. You’re stuck living in a past that’s over 100 years dead.”

“I would rather have the past than Russians inside me—”

“I told you I have no choice!”

“Russia changed you. You must like having his troops invade you—”

Poland quiets when Lithuania slaps her.

Lithuania’s hand trembles when he realizes what he’s done. Poland’s hand touches the redness on her cheek and she genuinely begins to cry, tears running down her cheeks.

“Oh my God, P-Poland—”

“No!” Poland sniffs and dabs at her eyes, her mascara smudging around her eyelids.

Lithuania pulls a handkerchief from his pocket and moves to wipe her face. “I’m so sorry. Please, Poland, let me help—”

Poland slaps his hand away. “No, Liet! I—I always thought of you as someone who would _never_ hurt me.” She rubs her eyes again, smudging her makeup even more, and takes a few steps back. “I th—thought you _loved me_.”

“I—I do!” Lithuania exclaims. His heart is pumping and his blood is pounding through his ears. “Poland, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean it—”

“You never loved me,” she says with a sniff. “You never have.” Poland puts her hands in her face and cries harder.

Lithuania’s heart sinks, and _he_ feels like crying. He loves her until his heart bursts. “That is not true. Poland—”

Poland sobs and pushes him to get out the door, her hands covering her face.

“Miss?” Lithuania’s receptionist offers tentatively, but Poland ignores her. She runs out the front door and onto the street, where she is lost among the carriages and crowds.

His receptionist looks at him questioningly. Lithuania shakes his head and closes the door to his office. Poland’s tears are genuine, he thinks as he slumps into his chair. His mind replays the moment—his tingling hand making a resound _smack_ as it collides against her cheek. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a pack of cigarettes. He takes out one and lights it, settling back into his chair as the numbness fades.

 _I’ve done it now._ Lithuania breathes out smoke and finds tears running down his cheeks. He had been politically and personally separated from Poland for 123 years, more painful than any whip Russia laid on him. His people need their own state, but he needs his own Poland.


	2. Chapter 2

Poland loves horses, and Lithuania finds her among the ranks of the former hussars.

He spurs his horse forward. This one is a roan and smaller than the massive warhorses he rode during the Middle Ages and Commonwealth—but this one is fast. Fast enough to catch up with the light gray ahead.

Poland can’t be that stupid enough to think that he couldn’t sense or recognize her. She might be wearing a cavalry uniform and have her hair tucked under her cap in a ponytail, but there’s no mistaking those flashing green eyes and the powerful air of a nation—the presence of millions of souls filling one body. He concentrates his sight ahead while his mind blazes with panic. His solders are outnumbered and scattered, overwhelmed with the sheer number of Polish troops. A few of them are retreating, the rest are surrendering. The air is filled with the yells of soldiers and horses from both sides. Poland gallops towards the Lithuanian flank, catching a Lithuanian foot soldier unawares.

Rage floods through Lithuania, and he speeds his horse between the two of them and pulls out his gun.

Poland gasps and pulls her horse back. Poland’s gray mare rears up on its hind legs and whinnies. Lithuania fires his pistol.

The bullet misses Poland, but hits another Polish cavalryman. His body jerks back and falls to the ground.

“Run!” he shouts in Lithuanian to the terrified man on the ground. “Run before the Poles take you prisoner!” The man doesn’t need to be told again as he flees.

He would have wanted to visit Warsaw earlier to make amends, but with her blatant invasion and her taking Sejny by force— _THE LIAR_

 

_“POLAND—”_ But she’s already galloping down the hill and towards the forest.

He chases her down the hill.

“Poland, I know it’s you!” he screams. “And you know it’s me.”

Poland looks over her shoulder and speeds her horse between the trees, vanishing.

_“_ _Šūdas.”_ Lithuania follows her.

The tree trunks here are close together and thin. His horse may be fast, but it has difficulty maneurving through tight spots and fallen logs. Within a few minutes of galloping, he loses sight of Poland and her gray in the trees and fog.

A horse screams and a woman yells.

_“Poland!”_

Lithuania leads his horse in the direction of the noises and within a few moments, comes upon the pitiful scene.

Poland’s horse screeches on the ground, with a bone jutting out of one of its back legs. Poland herself hasn’t noticed Lithuania. She’s laying on her stomach, her right arm immobilized, and reaching for the gun at her belt. Her cap has flown off somewhere and her pony tail is undone. Her face is covered in dirt with clear tear streaks on them. Lithuania’s gaze falls a few meters to the right to a rotting log, with splinters of wood on top where Poland’s horse failed to clear the jump.

Lithuania dismounts.

At the sound of his footsteps, Poland turns her head towards him and her eyes reflect fear as he pulls out his gun again.

_“Litwo—”_

He fires the gun and the forest is silent.

They say nothing. Lithuania looks at the horse’s body. He has Poland trapped. This could be so easy. He can just kill Poland and take her prisoner, but doing that will provoke another attack from the Polish army. He can present her to France and England, and then they would have proof that Poland’s army is breaking their treaty, but what would France and England possibly do?

“Why haven’t you killed me yet?”

Lithuania looks down. From her place in the dirt, Poland glares at him with defiance in her eyes, both arms laying limply at her side so that she looks like a log. Her uniform is so thick that he can’t tell what’s wrong with them.

“Go ahead and do it,” she growls. “There’s more of me than there is of you.”

But what would killing her _really_ do? Leave her dead for a few hours before she wakes up again?

Lithuania puts away his gun.

“Wh…Lithuania, what are you doing?”

“I won’t give you the satisfaction of killing you, if that’s what you want. Besides, you know I don’t shoot women.”

Poland lets out the coldest laugh. “Are you fucking serious? _This isn’t the 1500s anymore_. You’re seriously turning into a knight when you have me cornered like this.”

Lithuania shoves his gun back into his holster. “Why?”

“Why, what?”

“Why did you do this?” He might as well get some real answers while he has her like this. “All of this. If you only respected my territory, none of this would have happened.”

“This territory is _mine,_ ” she snarls. “You have no claim to it at all.”

“There are Lithuanians living in this land—not just Lithuanians with Polish blood but _ethnic Lithuanians_. You are taking them away from me.”

“But they are the _minority here_ ,” Poland says firmly. “What language do you speak when you’re in Vilnius? I am their blood. I am their nation, I am their motherland, I can feel them, and nothing you say can change that.”

Poland winces as an audible _pop_ comes from her shoulder, and she rolls over on that side onto her back, where she sits up.

“I can feel them too,” Lithuania says quietly. “Even if they speak Polish, there are still others who consider themselves Lithuanian. Look at Mickevičius.”

Poland says nothing.

“Poland, just stop this. You _know_ how Vilnius was founded. You, of all people, know it’s been my capital for centuries.”

_“I can’t.”_ Poland’s other bad arm sits in her lap. “You have no idea what it’s like to—”

“To what?” Lithuania says, suddenly enflamed. “To lose sovreignty? To become a slave in your own home? To be forbidden to speak your own language? To have your language printed in that…that _disgusting, cold alphabet_?”

Poland says nothing.

Lithuania’s horse whinnies.

“What happened to us?” Poland asks quietly. Another _pop_ comes from the bad arm, and she flexes it. “You told me that we’d be together again. I helped you get those books printed from Prussia and America inside your borders. You—you and Ukraine and Belarus helped me in 1863. In Vienna, you pulled me aside while the others were talking and said you loved me and made me feel like we were the Commonwealth again. I thought you wanted it. It was just a lie, wasn’t it?”

And Poland’s expression so drained, so defeated. She’s stopped crying and stares straight into the distance.

Lithuania sits down next to her. “It was not a lie,” he says slowly. “My thoughts just changed. Do you _really_ want a Commonwealth again? Look at what happened to Austria two years ago. He’s less than a third of what he once was. Russia, the Soviet Union, is a mess. And—”

“Us,” Poland whispers. “We were an empire, and we fell too.”

The forest is quiet but Lithuania’s thoughts echo with the events of that fateful, final year: Kościuszko’s uprising falling; foreign armies entering the piece of territory that Poland and Lithuania both clung to with their remaining strength; Lithuania being powerless at the sight of the final partition, with Poland too weak to resist Austria, Prussia, and Russia from violating her dignity and defiling her by force.

At the memory, Lithuania puts his arms around her and holds her close, hoping her scent can wash his mind of that horrific day.

“Oh Poland,” he breathes.

And Poland, lost in her own thoughts, leans into his touch, resting her face in his chest. “I can’t believe we’re fighting,” she says. “I don’t want us to fight.”

“I don’t either,” Lithuania says. He takes a deep breath. “I’m sorry.”

Poland looks up at him. “For what?”

“For hitting you back in Vilnius.” Lithuania pulls away and puts a hand on her grimy cheek. “I’m so sorry.”

“I guess I deserved it.” Poland sighs. “I know. You _hate_ Russia.”

“Don’t say that.” Lithuania kisses her cheek.

And Poland moves her head to kiss him full on the lips. Lithuania moves to kiss her back, and then pulls away, a thought in the back of his mind that she might be planning something.

“Poland…”

“I love you,” she whispers.

“This isn’t wise.”

“I don’t care.” Poland kisses him again. “I love you so much, and we both know we’ve wanted this for a long time.”

“We shouldn’t be doing this.”

“When else are we going to be in this situation?” Another kiss. “I _never_ wanted to start this war with you.”

Lithuania pulls away. “You tried to sleep with me in my office last time so I could give up Vilnius.”

“You said that you wanted to be friends again.” Poland paws at his military coat and moves so that she’s in his lap and facing him. “Even if we were politically separate.”

Lithuania says nothing.

“I just…God, I _miss_ you, Liet.” It’s been a year since she called him that. _“Liet.”_

Lithuania deepens the kiss and pushes Poland down until her back rests on the forest floor. Poland runs her hands down his back, her fingers curling into the thick fabric of his uniform.

“Liet,” she whispers. _“Lietuva.”_

At the sound of his true name, Lithuania moves his mouth to her neck, kissing the sensitive skin that always made Poland squirm and moan.

“G-God, Liet.” She whimpers and tugs at his jacket. “Take it off.”

“It’ll get dirty.”

Poland glares at him. “You…” Suddenly, she reaches between his legs and undoes his belt.

Lithuania jumps off her like he’s been electrified. _“W-What?”_

Poland gives him a confused look. “What do you mean what? I thought you wanted this.”

“I-I…” It has been a long time since he has been with a woman, much less Poland. Thinking about it, Poland _is_ the last woman he slept with, back in 1865 in one final desperate act before the fall of the uprising. “What if someone finds us?”

“They’re far away.” She sits up. “Do you not want…?”

“A no would be a lie.”

Lithuania moves towards her but Poland says, “Wait…”

Lithuania sits back and watches.

Poland unbuttons the heavy coat of her uniform to reveal a thinner army green shirt underneath, but she doesn’t pull that off. The battle might be far away, but it could move to the forest at anytime.

“I could’ve done that,” Lithuania says.

“Please just kiss me.”

He crawls back on top of her and softly kisses her, his hand sliding up her arm and intertwining their fingers. Poland kisses him back and spreads her legs so that Lithuania’s hips fall between them. A jolt goes through him to an area he hasn’t paid attention to for decades.

Poland undoes the button and zipper on his pants, and his inhibitions go away.

Lithuania presses himself to her body in ways he thought he had forgotten. As if they were still in the Commonwealth, he remembers every curve on her. How the pale skin on her neck is marked so easily. How deliciously she’ll moan when he puts his hand under her shirt and touches one of her breasts and squeezes like _this_.

“Liet!” Poland yelps. “Touch me! Touch me! Please!”

Lithuania squeezes her breast harder but Poland grabs his wrist. “No, not there.” She stares at him. “You know where.”

Lithuania nods and unzips and unbuttons and shoves his hand down her pants.

“O-Oh God,” he breathes. She’s already wet.

“Liet! Lietuva!” Poland shudders and squeaks as Lithuania’s fingers find her clitoris and rub frantically. She pulls him down into a kiss and spreads her legs as wide as they can go.

“Poland.” Lithuania lets out his first moan. His cock aches uncomfortably from the lack of stimulation. Whenever he’s touched Poland first, she always forgets to touch him back. To distract himself he rubs Poland harder and slips his tongue inside her mouth.

“Ah-Ahhh!”

Poland’s cunt suddenly pulses against his fingers, and she slaps a hand against his hip.

“Ahhhh, ahhh, Liet!”

Poland’s muscles relax, and she continues to kiss him with her warm and soft mouth. Lithuania’s hips fall back between her legs and he whimpers as his cock rubs against her thigh. He hasn’t been touched at all.

“God…”

Poland’s eyes widen at the feeling. “Liet! I forgot about you.”

“I’m used to it.”

She buries her head in his neck. “I still _want_ you.”

“Our clothes—”

Poland grabs the front of his shirt and kisses him hard. On instinct, Lithuania pushes her pants down her hips, an electric charge going through him when he finally sees how wet she is.

“Fuck me.” Poland puts her hand down his pants to grab his dick and give him forceful strokes. She whispers, “Mmm, God, remember that one time after Smolensk where you pushed me down and fucked me—”

A moan comes out of Lithuania as Poland curses more, and he bucks into her hand at the sound of her words.

“You’re so—” An idea comes to Lithuania’s mind, and he pushes Poland against the soft ground, pulling his cock out of his pants.

Poland squirms underneath him and wiggles her hips. “God, God, God, Liet, yes, please. NOW.”

Lithuania throws a leg over her shoulder and plunges inside her.

“Oh Christ!” she screams, her voice disturbing resting birds. “Oh Liet! Oh fuck me! Fuck, fuck—”

Lithuania cups a hand over her mouth. “Shhhhh!”

Poland’s muffled indignation quickly turns into high-pitched moaning under his hand as Lithuania moves quickly. The other hand holds her soft thigh as he throws his head back and breathes out softly.

“Polska…” he whispers. It’s been too long since he’s been inside her. He misses how she looks. Her blond hair splayed in the dirt, her eyes nearly closed with lust, the red blush on her cheeks. She’s too tight and hot. The area where she—

Poland squeals and digs her nails into the soil. He always finds it.

“F-Fuck…” He can’t take it. He loves to hear Poland scream. Lithuania removes his hand from Poland’s mouth and grips her thigh, pressing himself inside her as deep as he could.

“A-Ahh!” Poland yells. “G-God, yes! Yes! Liet! _Liet_!”

Lithuania groans in response as Poland keeps screaming his name and curses. That’s how they’ve always been in bed—Poland groaning and shouting and Lithuania silently thrusting with a moan escaping here and there. Replace the setting completely and it would be just like their first time at the end of the 15th century. Lithuania pounded Poland into the soft bed and Poland clawed at his back and moaned. The only thing missing is her crying when he took her virginity.

“L-Lietuva!” Poland breathes. “Lietuva—”

With a rush of lust at the word, Lithuania presses his chest against hers and kisses her neck. He moves his hands from their positions and gropes her breasts, wanting to tear the thick shirt off her body, and clutch her and never lose her again.

“P-Polska—”

_“Gooood, Liet!”_

Poland turns her head to the side and kisses him fiercely, removing one hand from the dirt to grip his hair and pull him closer. She moves against him, breathing harshly through her nose as she gets tighter and tighter and tighter—

_“A-Ahhhh!”_

Poland contracts around him, and she pounds her fist against the ground. Her mouth is open in a wordless scream.

Always the knight, Lithuania waits for her. He thrusts into her a few more times before he comes himself, biting Poland’s neck and rolling his hips. Poland is still dazed, breathing slowly, and her eyes glazed.

“Poland…” he whispers into her ear. “God, Poland…”

Poland whimpers and pats the side of his head. Lithuania closes his eyes and buries his head in her hair, breathing in the smell of her sweat.

“Poland…”

“Don’t pull out.”

Lithuania’s fingers intertwine with Poland’s in the dirt.

“I love you,” he says.

“I love you too.”

She pulls him down for another kiss and rests her arms on his back. Lithuania presses his nose against hers, reminding her of an unwelcome fact.

“We have to go back to war.”

“Run away with me,” Poland says suddenly. “Piłsudski will be fine, and I’m sure that your men know what to do without you.”

Lithuania sighs and gazes back at her wistfully. Her eyes are filled with a great nostalgia and sentimentality, and Lithuania believes that this is what she wants more than anything. Perhaps not necessarily the Commonwealth itself, but being united with Lithuania himself in everyway possible.

“We _can’t_ do that.” Lithuania pushes a strand of hair out of her face. “You know that we can’t.” He kisses her cheek. “But I wish we can.”

Poland’s lower lip trembles.

“I know,” she whispers. “I just thought—maybe when this is all over—we can buy a house. We don’t even have to live there permanently. Just—”

“Maybe when this is all over,” Lithuania repeats. He would hate to promise Poland something that won’t come true. “Maybe.”

“I don’t want to fight you.” She cups his face in her hands. “I don’t want to go back out there.”

“There is a difference between what we want and what we must.” Lithuania pulls out. “The battle is already over.”

Poland looks away as she zips up her pants. “You’re not just talking about the battle in the field, aren’t you?”

Lithuania stays quiet as he gets up and fixes his clothes. The knees of his pants are covered in dirt, and as Poland stands up as well, he sees that the back of her jacket is brown. Soil is under both of their fingernails and on their faces. It wouldn’t take long for anyone to figure out what they did.

“My horse is dead,” Poland says flatly.

“You can ride on mine,” Lithuania replies in the same tone.

He mounts his horse and helps Poland getting up. Both of them avoid eye contact. Poland lightly wraps her arms around Lithuania’s waist as he leads them back to the remnants of the battle and the real world, leaving the Commonwealth and their love behind them.

**Author's Note:**

>  ****  
> The Polish-Lithuanian War  
>  Essentially, a war arising after WWI in which Poland claimed that the Vilnius and Suwałki regions of Lithuania were a part of Poland. The new Lithuanian  
>  state claimed Vilnius as its historical capital dating back to the Middle Ages. The problem was that most people who lived in Vilnius were either ethnic  
>  Poles or Jews. Ethnic Lithuanians made up a small minority in both regions.
> 
>  
> 
> The League of Nations got involved but they never really did much. They affirmed that Lithuania was a neutral party in the conflict between Poland and the  
>  Soviet Union.
> 
>  
> 
> ****  
> Polish-Lithuanian Historiography  
>  Coming off of the source of the Polish-Lithuanian war, Poles and Lithuanians had extremely different views of their shared history in the Commonwealth.  
>  Interwar Poland saw itself as the successor to the Commonwealth, and a few Poles, Józef Piłsudski among them, wanted to rebuild the Commonwealth from the  
>  Baltic to Black Sea, also known asmiędzymorze (between seas). Ethnic Lithuanian nationalism grew while Lithuania was under Russian occupation. At the time,  
>  Lithuanians did not want to rejoin the union with Poland. Lithuanians wanted their own independent state for Lithuanians.
> 
>  
> 
> Some wanted the new Lithuanian state to be exclusively for ethnic Lithuanians, with anti-Semitism and Polonophobia rising. I personally don’t think that  
>  Lithuania the character would share these views, and that he would consider anyone who considered themselves a Lithuanian, regardless of ethnicity to be  
>  Lithuanian.
> 
>  
> 
> ****  
> “Lithuania, My fatherland! You are like health!”  
>  The famous invocation in the Polish national epic Pan Tadeusz by Adam Mickiewicz. Mickiewicz was born to a Polish noble family in the former lands of the  
>  Grand Duchy of Lithuania. Both Poland and Lithuania, as well as Belarus, consider him to be a part of their nations.
> 
>  
> 
> ****  
> The Battle of Sejny (AKA the battle they’re fighting in)  
>  A battle that took place close to the small town of Sejny. It had been contested by Polish and Lithuanian troops for about a month. On September 22, Poland  
>  decisively took the town from Lithuania. Most of the casualties were prisoners of war.
> 
>  
> 
> ****  
> Lithuanian Press Ban  
>  As a condition after the failure of the Polish-Lithuanian-Ruthenian January Uprising in 1863, the Russian Empire banned the printing of the Lithuanian  
>  language. This resulted in Lithuanian books being printed in nearby East Prussia or as far as the United States.
> 
>  
> 
> **January Uprising**  
>  A joint Polish-Lithuanian-Ruthenian uprising that took place in the Russian Empire from 1863 to 1865. Failed.
> 
>  
> 
> ****  
> Lithuanian Cyrillic  
>  Yes, the Russian Empire even made a Lithuanian alphabet using Cyrillic letters. This did not go over well.
> 
>  
> 
> ****  
> Kościuszko’s Uprising  
>  Tadeusz Kościuszko, a Polish nobleman, led an uprising against the powers of Prussia and Russia, who were gaining more Polish territory. What was  
>  remarkable about his uprising was that Kościuszko lead peasants against the partitioners.


End file.
